


Ritual- Kinktober 2019 Entry

by a_dangerous_sociopath



Series: Storm Warning [8]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Illnesses, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 03:22:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20859413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_dangerous_sociopath/pseuds/a_dangerous_sociopath
Summary: Mark feels like he's beginning to lose his grip on things, and there's really only so much Virgil can do.





	Ritual- Kinktober 2019 Entry

**Author's Note:**

> **THIS. HAS. SPOILERS FOR UNDER A PHANTOM DIVINE.**
> 
> **UNDER A PHANTOM DIVINE IS NOT DONE YET**
> 
> Actually this little one shot is kind of a bridge, from the end of Phantom to the story that's going to follow it. And the reason for that is, for one, I just really wanted to do a Kinktober. I've never finished a Kinktober. I really want to try.
> 
> For two... well half of these little one shots are for me, and the other half is a gift for my **SPOILER** vehemently Team Virgil friend.
> 
> God damn you know it's bad when even the explanation has spoilers. 
> 
> If you want to continue on to read this that's fine, if not, I totally understand, lol. I'm still working on Phantom's next chapter, so look out for that. Phantom's a pretty short story, guys. Pretty soon this won't all be so spoilery because you'll all know wtf lead to this nightmare one shot, lol.

**Ritual**

Mark groaned a little, feeling hands brace and slide under him, tugging him up into a seated position. But he felt cold and exposed to the elements like this. As much as this other person was trying to get his attention, speaking to him in the gentlest tones, Mark fought against it. He'd never felt so fatigued in his life, and all he wanted to do was burrow back down against the floor and…

Floor? 

What was he doing on the floor?

Mark opened his eyes finally to see Virgil kneeling beside him. That was what caused Mark to finally wake up a little, remembering where he was and how he got there. 

"Again." Mark said, disappointed in himself. He hated that this is what he was reduced to, depending on Virgil for everything. He knew that Virgil didn’t mind doing these small favors for him, but that wasn’t the point. It was hard to go from being completely independent to needing someone’s help pretty much all the time. Virgil couldn’t even leave the cabin for a few hours to go get food...

Virgil frowned a little. "You can't exactly help it." he told him. Mark watched as Virgil ran his hands over him, seeming to check him over, making sure he wasn't hurt by the fall he must have taken. "Do you remember what happened?" Virgil asked after a moment. 

Mark glanced over to the recently malfunctioning heater. He tried pointing at it as best as he could, but he quickly noticed how bad his arm shook just trying so he gave up, figuring Virgil could figure out what he was trying to say. 

Virgil nodded somberly. "Well it doesn't seem like you were hurt." He said after a moment. “Sore anywhere?” He asked. Mark shook his head no. Looking relieved, he leaned in to draw Mark closer, sliding his arms under Mark's knees and back, before gently lifting him up. Immediately, Mark found himself seeking out Virgil’s warmth, tucking his head under the other man’s chin, and granted, Virgil didn’t have much to offer anymore, but the man was a sauna compared to the rest of the cabin. 

Virgil carried him back to the bed and gently laid him down on it. He pulled up the covers, and while that helped with that searing, bone-deep chill that Mark was suffering, it wasn’t enough. When Virgil began to pull away Mark hissed, reaching out to quickly grasp Virgil’s jacket. Hell, he knew Virgil had been out in the snow, so it made sense that even the jacket was cold, but it still kind of surprised him. Carefully, Virgil took his hand and pulled it away, tucking the limb under the blankets. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Virgil told him. “I brought you some soup. Let me heat it up for you; I’d like for you to drink it if you can.” 

“‘M not hungry.” Mark protested, as Virgil produced the soup (which was just one of those packet ramen deals,) and went to to heat it in the microwave, which seemed to be the only functioning piece of equipment they had in that cabin..

“No.” Virgil corrected him. “Wrong answer. You need the nutrients.” He was quiet for a moment, as he heated the meal. Once it seemed sufficiently hot, he placed it in a thermos for him to sip at and brought it over to the bed. He helped to move Mark into a seated position, which took some work with the numerous blankets weighing him down. Mark was so cold, though, his muscles so weak and shaky that he needed help holding the thermos. After rearranging themselves a bit, trying to find a decent position to let Mark better control the thermos, Virgil finally just gave up and pulled Mark into his lap, wrapping the blankets around them both, while Mark held the thermos in his lap. Virgil helped him to steady it, and somehow, they made it work. 

“Can you try to drink?” Virgil asked him, once they were settled. Mark nodded softly, but he made no immediate moves to do that. Instead, he cuddled into Virgil, as close as he could get. Despite Virgil’s added warmth, despite the blankets piled over and around them, he still felt so cold.

Virgil sighed a little and Mark felt like hell for frustrating him. Virgil looked  _ shaken _ . His skin was pale and gaunt, and he understood that it was probably supposed to be like that, for the most part, it kind of came along with the territory. But he still felt absurdly guilty that he couldn’t do any better for Virgil than he was.

“I’m sorry.” Mark said, even as he curled further into Virgil’s arms.

That roused Virgil a little, and he looked down to his charge in surprise. “For what?” he asked. 

“Because I can’t keep up.” Mark said, voice low and murmured. He was feeling so out of it, so short of breath. It made it difficult for him to speak, even. 

“No, no…” Virgil hushed him softly. Mark sighed a little, feeling the other man run his hands over him. Rubbing tight muscles, trying to warm him with the friction. It felt like a losing battle. “That’s not your fault.”

“You’ve got to be hungry though… Virg.” Mark whispered, looking the other man over with concern. 

Virgil bit his bottom lip for a moment, turning his face towards the window. Mark followed his gaze, though he wasn’t sure why he bothered. There was nothing out there. No trees. No scenery of any kind of interest. Just snow. Snow and ice laying quietly across a flat and uninteresting landscape. Virgil wouldn’t tell him where they were. Mark had his theories, and was half convinced they had holed up on an Alaskan glacier. This place they were in just felt so remote, so difficult to reach. He knew Virgil was going out, getting food for him, gathering various supplies, so there had to be some kind of civilization somewhere close by. He just didn’t know where.

Virgil stayed quiet for a moment, before he gently prodded Mark again. “Drink the soup.” 

Mark raised weary eyes to the man, before looking to the thermos. He unscrewed the cap and immediately the steam rising from it hit him and he sighed, kind of basking in the warmth. A salty chicken base with a few rehydrated vegetables and chewy thin noodles. Not great on its own, but perfect for how cold he was feeling, and comforting, taking him back to the winters of his childhood. 

“It’s snowing.” Virgil commented, almost casually.

Mark paused, soup container halfway to his mouth as he too looked out the window. Confirming for himself what Virgil had just said. Mark grimaced at the sight of it. “That’s all it does here.” he said, and he reached for the blanket, tugging it closer around himself and Virgil. He thought about the malfunctioning heater. He thought about how weak and sickly he’d gotten, in the couple of months that they’d been here. He thought, unfortunately, about Victor and what he said about the blood doll that preceded him. 

He didn’t want what happened to that man to happen to him.

“Virgil?”

“Carly will be here in a few days.” Virgil said, like he hadn’t heard him. “She’s going to bring supplies. She’s more of an expert on this than I am, she’ll teach me how to take care of you...” 

Mark heaved a shuddering breath. It was just so hard for him to breathe like this. “It takes… two months… to completely replenish blood naturally…”

“I’m going to have to clear some of the snow in the next few days, so she can bring her car up to the cabin…” 

“...and I try to do what I can… because I don’t want you to starve yourself over me…” Mark continued.

“...I’ll take a look at the heater before I go. I won’t have you freezing while I’m…”

“I’m going to die before she gets here.” Mark finally finished his thought.

“No you’re not!” Virgil’s hold tightened on him, and Mark could feel the rush of his emotions rush through him. Mark squeezed his eyes closed but it didn’t protect him from the onslaught. 

Once it was done, Mark reached out, pushing aside the blankets for just a moment so that he could set the soup container on the nightstand. He’d get to it later, maybe. He quickly retreated back under the covers, twisting himself a little, so that he can better see Virgil. Virgil was pointedly not looking at him, staring at some distant point off in the distance. Not having it, Mark gently reached out, placing his hands on Virgil’s cheek, tugging down his chin. Because when he felt this weak and when he was having this hard a time finding his breath, well. When he had something to say, Virgil was damn well going to listen. 

“We can’t keep this up.” Mark said softly.

Virgil sighed. “We just need to hold out until they stop looking for us.” He said. 

“Milo’s my husband.” Mark replied pointedly, tone still soft and, he hoped, comforting. “He’s never going to stop looking.” Mark glanced away for a second, drawing his fingers down Virgil’s cheek. “I miss him.” he said, after a moment. “I miss Jenn. I miss Chica I don’t want to die out here…”

Virgil was quiet for a moment. He gathered Mark into his arms, sliding around his back, as Virgil shifted their positions. He tugged Mark down with him until they were both lying down in the bed, facing each other, Mark cradled to his chest. Mark buried his face against Virgil’s neck, again, trying again to leach his warmth. Virgil didn’t have much to offer anymore, but what he had felt like a sauna in this climate.

“I’m not going to let you die.” Virgil rearranged the blankets around them, tucking Mark in as best as he could. “I love you, Mark.” Virgil told him quietly.

Mark felt his heart break for this man.

“I love you, too.” Mark admitted softly, as he gently gripped Virgil’s shirt. “But I…”

“Don’t tell me ‘if things had been different.’” Virgil told him firmly. “I’m not giving up. I’m not letting you go.”

There was a finality in his voice, and it hurt to hear it. “We may not have a choice in this.” Mark finally said. “He’s a god. He’s…. Relentless. You know this better than me.” Mark told him. “I don’t want him to hurt you over me.” 

Virgil looked to Mark, gently running his hands over him. His arms, his back, his chest.

“When the time comes… I’ll be ready for him.” Virgil told Mark firmly.

It wasn’t the first time, or even the second time they’d had this conversation, and it always ended the same. As Mark curled up against Virgil’s chest, the man providing him what warmth he could, Mark sort of realized he was just beating his head against a brick wall. This had become their nightly ritual. Mark’s overriding weakness, this argument that he was too tired to have, that always led to the same conclusion. Either he was going to die, or Milo and Virgil were going to clash, spectacularly. Maybe both would happen. Mark held onto Virgil, and could only hold onto the dwindling hope that they’d both come out of this alive.


End file.
